


Sink My Teeth Into Your Heart (I Say I'm Not Into You)

by Krasimer



Series: The Ringing of a Crystal (The Pounding of a Heart) [2]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angry Glanni, Back to this story again because I wasn't done, Declarations Of Love, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fae Robbie Rotten, Family, Glanni thinks Íþróttaálfurinn doesn't like him, Incandescent and angry, M/M, Sportacus confesses that he loves Robbie, The sort of love that burns, or love him, Íþróttaálfurinn gets his ass kicked because he doesn't Word Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9676904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: “Now,” Sportacus looked at the letter. “Can you explain why it worries you? Surely there’s a reason. Think it through calmly.”Robbie looked at it again. “It stinks of magic,” he said quietly. “Not- Not the kind of magic you use, either. The kind that belongs to fae andme. There’s something familiar about it, something…” he sniffed at the envelope delicately. “I remember this scent. Just,” he curled a finger into the ripped corner, pulling it open and carefully drawing out the paper inside.In curly handwriting that looked a fair amount like Robbie’s own it simply said,‘I’m coming, give me a few hours and I’ll be there’.Sportacus frowned at it from next to Robbie’s shoulder. “Do you know who could have sent it?”(A delayed sequel to that one fic where Sportacus's crystal goes off for a month because Robbie grew wings)





	1. Chapter 1

It was astonishing how he still felt giddy when waiting to see Íþróttaálfurinn.

The elf was the biggest pain in his ass, literally, and his knuckles had bled more than once from slamming full-force into Glanni’s teeth, but Glanni still felt that whisper of excitement in his gut. Íþróttaálfurinn was…Not his, precisely, but something close enough to it that the feral part of his brain was settled. The arrangement had been created decades ago after Íþróttaálfurinn had chased Glanni out of Lazytown.

You stay out of Lazytown, I follow after you. The only person you sleep with is me.

If you step out of line like that again, I will kill you.

Suited Glanni just fine.

The elf had left a message for him in one of his usual haunts in Mayhem town, a quick note that all but demanded to meet up in Glanni’s apartment. 

So there he sat, waiting. If he were any less than he was, Glanni would say he was nervous. “As if a Glaepur would be nervous to see someone like that,” he growled the words out, his fists clenching on his knees. “An elf, a _sports elf_ , why would I be nervous?”

“Hello Glanni,” Íþróttaálfurinn greeted from the door. “You shouldn’t leave it unlocked like that.”

Glanni hissed at him, curling back and over the edge of the bed. “Do not _sneak up on me_ , you blasted beast!” he peeked over the edge of the bed, his sharp nails digging into the blankets. “You could have easily died, I could have been prepared to launch a curse at your head the moment I saw an intruder!”

Íþróttaálfurinn smiled and it was almost kind. “You weren’t paying attention,” he held up a letter. “I needed to talk to you.”

“What, are we actually going to talk this time?” Glanni raised an eyebrow. “You could be enjoying something else, but we’re going to waste our time actually _talking,_ ” he gestured down at himself. “Ready to go whenever you are, _elf_ , we could be working ourselves brainless and you want to actually talk?”

With a step forward and a boot gently closing the door behind him, Íþróttaálfurinn shook his head. “No, Glanni,” he held out the letter. “Something is happening in Lazytown.”

“And?” the fae sneered. “Not supposed to go to _Lazytown_. Got banned. You may have heard of this flippity-flopping _hero_ named Íþróttaálfurinn. He told me that if I ever went back or stepped out of line, he would kill me. Put a leash on a fae and limited his territory, you don’t get everything,” he picked himself off, dusting off his front in as haughty a way as he could. The letter was nearly shoved in his face, Íþróttaálfurinn’s tanned hand trembling. 

“You had _family_.”

Glanni snatched the letter, dropping onto the bed and using his foot to push Íþróttaálfurinn back and away. The glamour he wore disappeared, a pair of wings that started out a dark mulberry color and ended in bright pink at the tips swaying behind him. “This-“ his eyes scanned the letter, frowning. “Your stupid successor,” he groaned. “He had to cut… _’Robbie has wings, though delayed in growth. Could have ended in his_ ’…You,” his knuckles went white, his grip on the paper almost shredding it. “You _chased me out of Lazytown_ and my cousin _pays the price for i_ t,” he growled again, his eyes flashing dangerously. “My cousin could have _died_ , I promised his mother that I would _help him_ when and if there came a time he needed _help_ with our genetics and you _chased me away!_ ”

“You never told me that you had family there,” Íþróttaálfurinn defended himself weakly, looking sick. His mustache twitched a couple of times. “You always said you were on your own.”

“A _fae_ would never _tell an elf_ ,” Glanni whipped himself across the bed, landing almost on his knees on the other side. “If they had _family_ that could be in _danger_ should the elf _find out!_ ” he took a breath, then another, then shook his head and waved the letter at Íþróttaálfurinn. “You are going to…I…” he snarled wordlessly. The wings on his back twitched and the room seemed to sigh around them, the walls closing in. “Enjoy _saving_ them, _Hero_ , because that is all you ever _cared about_ , so that is all you will _do!_ ”

Glanni swiped a hand through the air, vanishing from sight in an instant before even Íþróttaálfurinn could move fast enough to stop him.

 

Robbie blinked, confused, at the letter that sat on the doorstep of his home.

It wasn’t one of the mail tubes the children sometimes still used to contact Sportacus. The envelope was a bit tattered, one of the corners ripped just enough to show the paper inside, and it was bright pink. The entire thing smelled of magic, the scent of ozone lingering on his hands when he sniffed them suspiciously. “What…”

“Oh, hello Robbie!” Sportacus bounded up to him, a smile on his face. “…Robbie?”

“Did you see someone leave this?” Robbie held it up, frowning even in the cheer of the elf who had come to be a good friend of his. “Did the children touch it? That could have been dangerous, what if something had-“

“Robbie, please remember to breathe,” Sportacus put a hand on his shoulder, the other on his own chest. 

“Alright.”

“Now,” Sportacus looked at the letter. “Can you explain why it worries you? Surely there’s a reason. Think it through calmly.”

Robbie looked at it again. “It stinks of magic,” he said quietly. “Not- Not the kind of magic you use, either. The kind that belongs to fae and _me_. There’s something familiar about it, something…” he sniffed at the envelope delicately. “I remember this scent. Just,” he curled a finger into the ripped corner, pulling it open and carefully drawing out the paper inside. 

In curly handwriting that looked a fair amount like Robbie’s own it simply said, _‘I’m coming, give me a few hours and I’ll be there_ ’. 

Sportacus frowned at it from next to Robbie’s shoulder. “Do you know who could have sent it?”

“…I have to go inside now,” Robbie swallowed nervously, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as he stared blankly at the paper. “And yes, I know who sent this. I haven’t seen him in ages, he should have been here to help me when my wings grew in, but I would bet anything that it was him,” he pressed his hands to his chest, his entire body trembling. Underneath the glamour, Sportacus knew, his wings were twitching. There was a look Robbie got on his face when his wings were moving without a conscious decision from him.

He was wearing that look, the one that practically screamed fear and anxiety at the world around him.

Most people hadn’t bothered to learn what his various faces meant. Sportacus was one of the few, though the children were starting to learn as well. Robbie Rotten was a very expressive person, even if most of his emotions and thoughts were shown through the movements of his hands. Right now, Robbie needed comfort and a safe place to hide, one that would preferably be shielded enough to have his wings out in.

It had only been a few weeks since they had been pulled from their sacks and freed, but Robbie was very quickly growing used to having them.

“…Is this from your-“

“Yes,” Robbie’s sharp intake of breath made Sportacus want to wrap him in his arms and protect him from the world around them. His cousin, the one his mentor had chased off so long ago that Robbie had never known any sort of help when it came to his lineage cropping up and causing problems. There was no sign of him for decades and now there was a letter.

An almost-angry frown curled the elf’s mouth. 

“Let’s get you inside,” he said softly, the words replacing the furious ones he wanted to say. Robbie didn’t need someone yelling at him, he needed to be somewhere he was comfortable and felt safe. Sportacus pressed a gentle hand into Robbie’s shoulder, guiding him, and nearly jumped a few feet off the ground when the fae took his hand.

Robbie looked at him shyly, his shoulders still tense. “You’re too nice,” he grumbled, trying to ignore the flush of his cheeks. “Stop it.”

“Never,” Sportacus smiled at him. 

 

The trip to Robbie’s house was almost uneventful, except for one thing.

There was a man standing at the entrance hatch, his fists clenched at his sides and his back slouched. If he had been standing straight, he would have been taller than Robbie. Certainly, a feat to impress by any standards, even with the heels he wore. The shine of black leather on his legs was almost dulled by the dark-orange sweater he wore, the sleeves of it nearly obscuring his hands.

“Sir?” Sportacus put Robbie behind him, defensive immediately. 

Gray eyes turned to him, the same quicksilver color that Robbie had, and for once it felt like a threat. “A _hero_ ,” the man snarled, his upper lip curling back, his eyes narrowing. They flashed a few different colors, settling back to the original gray after a moment. “An _elf_ ,”

Robbie grabbed Sportacus’s shoulder, trying to keep him from stepping forward. “Sportaflip, don’t,” he swallowed nervously. “Glanni?”

Those threatening eyes focused on Robbie and the other man relaxed. “Robbie,” he greeted his cousin. It was nearly gentle, nearly calm. “Why are you _anywhere near_ an _elf_ , don’t you know they’re _only ever a threat_?” his fists rose slightly, like he was going to attack. “They don’t play _fair_ , they only ever cause _pain_ and one of them could have made you _die_ ,” Glanni took a deep breath. “And you are the only family I have _left_.”

Glanni, Sportacus realized, had an incomplete bond, meant for mates and supposed to be used to be happy.

The fae in front of him was _seething._

Sportacus eased Robbie’s hand off his shoulder, stepping to the side. He knew how fae worked. If you separated family, they were likely to skip past any rational action and move directly onto killing you. These two had been split apart for almost thirty years.

“I am not going to hurt him,” he said softly.

Glanni’s eyes were still narrowed, sparks of pink surrounding his hands now. “I don’t trust you, _elf_.”

“And that is perfectly fine,” Sportacus held up his hands in surrender and took another step back. “But I am going to keep Robbie safe. I’m the one who-“

“Who pulled his wings out and saved his life,” Glanni growled the words out. “I _know._ ”

“…He’s trying to say thank you,” Robbie spoke up, looking between the two of them. “But he doesn’t want to actually say the words. Glanni?”

“What?”

“Is…The reason you left…”

“An elf,” Glanni sneered again. “Ran into him when you were still a child, got run out of town. Poisoned the whole place,” he shifted into a proud smile, looking around. “Nearly got rich off of it. That damnable _sports elf_ had to come in and ruin _everything_ , didn’t he?” Glanni reached down the neck of his sweater, pulling out a piece of paper. 

Sportacus recognized his own handwriting. “Did you steal a letter from Nine?”

“Don’t look so incredulous, little elf, he _gave_ it to _me_ ,” Glanni shook the paper and sighed. “The only reason I didn’t kill you when you walked up with my baby cousin is this paper. You wrote your old _mentor_ and told him you needed help finding me because a fae needs their family. Disgustingly sappy but true. You also wrote that Robbie could have died. I’m glad he _didn’t_ ,” he shuddered, still edging around an actual show of gratitude. “Our mothers would have tracked me down and _destroyed me_ if he had.”

“You nearly poisoned Lazytown.”

“Yes, yes, unfortunate past, history books, I should be ashamed,” Glanni rolled his eyes and waved a hand at Sportacus. “Do _all_ elves stay this tightly wound? Is it from birth? Or is the stick inserted up their ass during training?”

“Glanni!”

“What?” he arched an eyebrow at Robbie. 

Robbie made a face, his hand curling around Sportacus’s elbow. “Just go down the hatch,” he hissed. “It is _open_ , stop making me _regret things_.”

“Certainly!” Glanni turned on one of his oddly tall heels and practically dropped down the hatch, feet first. 

Turning his head up, Robbie sighed, then dropped his face into his hands. “I forgot what he was like,” he muttered, a small smile on his face. “I’m still not happy with how he chose to go about his schemes, but at least he’s still…If I say decent, does that make you hate me?”

Sportacus had half-stopped listening, allowing the fae his vague privacy. “Hm? Oh,” he thought for a moment. “There is a sort of person who can try to destroy the world and still try to take care of his family. I am guessing that Glanni is that sort?” he waited, smiling when Robbie nodded. “Then I do not hate you for it. I do not, necessarily, agree with your thoughts, but we are friends. If we shared the exact same opinions and thoughts, we would be the sort of friends that stop being friends.”

“…You still want to be friends with me?”

“Oh, Robbie,” Sportacus’s heart thudded in his chest, the elf imagining taking Robbie’s hand in his own and kneeling. Proclaiming the actual sort of love kept hidden in his chest, finally telling him and letting it be known. Robbie was lovely and brilliant and Sportacus wanted to be near him and make him happy at all times. Failing that, he would be the best friend Robbie had ever had, even if the man rejected him. “I will always be your friend.”

He would always put Robbie’s happiness above his own heartsickness, even if it felt like it was going to kill him.

To do anything else would be untruthful and more than a little demanding. What sort of person would do that, Sportacus wondered as Robbie stepped into the hatch and climbed the ladder down. To hang around someone they claimed to love and expect them to love them back when they had been pretending to be just friends? Especially the ones who really weren’t interested in a relationship in the first place.

The thought turned his gut and Sportacus followed the two fae, traveling down into Robbie’s territory.

Jeopardizing his friendship with Robbie was not worth it.

 

Glanni stood in the middle of the lair and closed his eyes, his hands fidgeting at his sides. 

After a moment, he nodded and opened them, looking at Robbie with approval in his gaze. “Very good,” he almost complimented his cousin. “It feels secure like it’s supposed to. Feels almost like…”

“I was trying,” Robbie’s voice was uncharacteristically small, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“One day,” Glanni’s held a promise. “We’ll get back. It’s got to stop eventually and then we can go back. They’ll _probably_ be there and we’ll be alright. The courts,” he glanced at Sportacus before he continued. “The fighting can’t go on forever,” he gestured at the wards on the wall, meant for safety and silence. “That seems more advanced than they should be.”

Robbie smiled a little. “Sportacus helped me with them.”

“Hm.”

“I just wanted to help,” Sportacus offered awkwardly, smiling as well after a moment of hesitation. “Robbie’s sleep schedule isn’t the same as the one the children or even I follow. Their playing was keeping him awake most days, so I taught him how to put up silencing wards. He has his surveillance system set up so that he can see what is happening still, but he sleeps much better now.”

“…Keep him,” Glanni muttered with a jerk of his head. His eyes were focused on Robbie. “He seems to be doing a good job of keeping you alive. At least he isn’t as intense about things as his gods damned mentor.”

“Wait, your mentor is even _worse_ than you are sometimes?”

“He always was known as the more stubborn one,” Sportacus offered weakly. “I can’t say I don’t have that title as well, considering how I found you and this town,” he shrugged and looked at Robbie. “I was looking for the source of my crystal’s concern for a _month_.”

Glanni looked between the two of them, then made his way to the orange armchair and flopped bonelessly into it. “Oh, do tell.”

A chest-rumbling growl came from Robbie’s direction, the chair tilting just enough to force Glanni to slide out of it and drop to the floor. With a pointed glare at his cousin, Robbie dropped into the seat instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “My wings coming in set off his crystal,” he grumbled, glaring at his cousin. Glanni had simply adapted to the new position, his arms behind his head and his legs crossed. “He flew his blimp around until he found the person who was in so much pain it was picking them up from _miles_ away.”

“Airship.”

“ _Blimp_.”

Both pretended to glare at the other for a moment while Glanni curled up in a fit of laughter. “Your elf actually went looking to find you for a _month_? That’s _impressive!_ The only reason mine would do that would be to put a fist in my face.”

Sportacus blinked at him. 

“Poisoned this little town, darling,” Glanni waved off the concerned look in his eyes. “Criminals don’t get breaks, even thirty years later. We made a Deal to keep me away from here.”

“Then why are you _here_?” there was a small amount of panic in Robbie’s expression and it sent Glanni into another bout of cackling. “Sports elves don’t tend to take too kindly to Deals being broken! He is going to come try to find you and then my cousin will be _dead_ and I don’t want to _lose the remainder of my family!_ ”

Glanni rolled his eyes, sitting up and leaning back on his hands. “Íþróttaálfurinn knows why I’m here,” his voice had become oddly cold, sending a shiver down Sportacus’s spine. “And he _knows_ why I broke our Deal,” he bared his teeth in a snarl.

If Sportacus focused, he could feel the jagged edge of magic and it worried him. The new arrival of a fae had him concerned in so many ways, but with an incomplete bond and a broken Deal on his back, he wondered how much longer the fae would live. Broken Deals tended to rebound and shatter the one who had broken them. Occasionally, the Deal would take down the other person as well, but if it had been created by one instead of both, it tended to take down the creator.

Had Íþróttaálfurinn created the deal?

Or had Glanni?

Either answer was just as bad as the other. If Glanni died, then Robbie would be left alone. The courts of the fae probably wouldn’t accept one who was less than full-blooded without a full-blooded to vouch for them. From what the two had been speaking of earlier, it seemed that the in-fighting of the court they belonged to had gotten bad. 

Sportacus worried at his lip. 

The only court he knew of that had been fighting constantly was the Unseelie one. Either there had been fighting once, ages before and the two had been left out in the human world for reasons unknown, or they belonged to the more dangerous court.

“I can almost _see_ the question in your eyes, _elf_ ,” Glanni narrowed his eyes at him. “The Seelie court has just as much war as the Unseelie, even if they’re neater about it. His mother, him, and myself were all that was left of our bloodline. She sent us away to keep us safe and alive while the other nobles of the court fought. Our grandfather was a Duke,” he pressed a finger to his lips like he was warning to keep quiet. “We didn’t have him anymore; his death was one of the reasons the fighting began.”

A noble-born set of cousins from the Seelie court. 

Wonderful.

Sportacus nodded, turning the new information over in his head. Robbie was certainly powerful enough, even without being full-blood fae, that it made sense. Glanni seemed to be the same.

One of Robbie’s machines vibrated, a small noise that had all three of them turning to look. After a moment, Robbie got up and went to where his periscope was, pulling it down and looking through it. “…There’s a-“ he pulled back, his face twisted in confusion. “There’s a hot air balloon floating over the city,” he looked at Glanni, annoyed. “Did you bring him _with you_?”

Glanni growled, his fingers scratching into the floor and leaving small trails in the ground. “Not on _purpose_ ,” he hissed the words out. The small glamour he wore on his face had dropped, leaving him more angular, less human looking. There was a delicate point to his ears now, still more rounded than an elf’s ears, but it was obvious from looking at him that he was something other than a normal human. “I thought I’d made it _clear_ , told him to keep protecting his _people_ , all he has _ever done_ ,” his hands were shaking, claws dragging across the floor every few seconds, sparks of pink flying in every direction. 

“Well, the balloon currently _descending_ on my _territory_ is bright yellow,” Robbie’s hands were clenched on the controls of the periscope. “And I’m not you but I am _related_ to you,” he shot an almost apologetic glance at Sportacus. “And I don’t know if he holds a _grudge_ against our bloodline.”

“He won’t,” Glanni sighed, anger dropping off his face. “It was nice seeing you, little cousin.”

Before either of them could move, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

“…Thirty years and he is so _different_ ,” Robbie muttered, his hands clenched on his periscope for a moment. “How…Does your mentor hold grudges?”

“…It may be something he has come to learn how to do?” Sportacus frowned. 

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Robbie groaned, letting go of the handles and turning towards where the hatch was. “I’m going to go make sure my cousin doesn’t die. If your mentor happens to do something that makes my return impossible, please give the children the stuff you think they’d like and let this place _rot_.”

Sportacus grabbed for his hand, his eyes wide. “Please don’t go alone.”

“Are you going to go with me?”

“Yes!”

Robbie blinked a couple of times, obviously not expecting that. “…Why?”

“Because you are my friend, Robbie.”

“That’s not the truth,” Robbie frowned at him, his arm tensing like he was going to pull away. “Not…Not all of it. Why are you going to follow me into what might be a fight against the elf who _taught you_?”

His heart thudding almost painfully in his chest, Sportacus made a face before he let go of Robbie’s hand. “I…”

“Of course there’s no answer, why would you want anything to do with-“

Robbie’s angry, self-hating speech was interrupted by Sportacus pulling gently at his vest and pressing their lips together. Both of them froze, Sportacus’s hands warm on Robbie’s jaw. The heat from them seemed to fill his entire body and Robbie put his own hand over one of them. The kiss itself was chaste, no pressure and no pushing, entirely up to the fae if he wanted it to continue or not. Sportacus wasn’t even holding him all that tight, loose enough that Robbie could push him off and run away if he wanted to.

He really didn’t want to.

It had to end eventually, however, and Robbie’s face was flushed, bright red and embarrassed as he looked at the elf. “…How long?”

“Ever since I met you,” Sportacus said quietly. “You trusted me and you were brilliant and beautiful and your wings were lovely as well and I just…Wanted. Loved you. Love you. Wings are special and working with them is something that only those you trust should do. I’ve met enough fae to know that their wings are one of the things they prize over all others. You weren’t what I thought you were going to be, listening to the children. If you had been like what they thought, then I would have helped you and left again.”

“But…” Robbie blinked again, still trying to process. “Why me? I’m a fae, yes, but I am…Nothing special.”

“You are brilliant and beautiful and wonderful and one of the best people I have ever found,” Sportacus countered. “And I have found myself falling in love with you.”

“You shouldn’t do that,” he looked a little panicked. 

“Too late,” Sportacus took his hands in his own. “Way too late. Now,” he cleared his throat, smiling dreamily at Robbie. “We should go stop your cousin from trying to fight Íþróttaálfurinn.”

“That _literally_ means the same thing as your name, why are you named the _exact same_?”

Sportacus laughed and started walking towards the exit, still holding Robbie’s hand in his own. “True names have power,” he waved Robbie up the ladder, his heart still hammering in his chest. “If we told ours to the world around us, we might have a few more problems than we already do.”

“Makes enough sense,” Robbie popped up out of the hatch at the top, nearly falling over when he saw what was happening.

Glanni was swinging a fistful of pink magic, sparking and deadly looking, at an elf dressed in orange and yellow. The hat he wore had a crystal like Sportacus’s and it was blinking quickly like it was trying to warn the wearer. The fae swiped for it, managing to knock the hat off of Íþróttaálfurinn’s head, snarling all the while, his teeth bared in a sort of threat.

Robbie moved to let Sportacus out of the tunnel, watching the two move.

Íþróttaálfurinn wasn’t fighting back.

He was doing the same flips and hops that Sportacus did, if a little showier in his performance of them, and he had a look of panic on his face. “Glanni,” he choked the word out, doing a backflip to avoid the fae’s power-covered hand slamming into his nose. “Glanni, please!”

“ _ **He could have DIED**_!”

Not English. Not a language that anyone outside of the four of them could understand. Glanni’s eyes were entirely pink, the sclera drowning in it. The way he looked almost seemed like one of the old legends of Fae, about the ones that drowned humans and laughed about it, or the ones that led them from the path and into dangers. The being that looked like Glanni had dropped any pretense of being anything other than what he was. His wings were sharp at the edges, held behind and above him, flexed and ready to be used in an attack.

And Íþróttaálfurinn was still trying to get closer to him.

Sportacus let out a whine, watching his mentor refuse to fight back, his hands clutching the rim of the hatch so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Íþróttaálfurinn,” he muttered. “Don’t let him-“

The growl that came from Glanni was loud, drowning out his words.

Robbie took one of Sportacus’s hands. “I think I have come to feel for you the same you feel for me,” he said quietly. “But I also think that if someone doesn’t stop Glanni, we might have the entirety of the town coming to see and Glanni is _powerful_. If he wanted to, he could destroy Lazytown for good. The poisoning happened because he was bored, think of what could happen if he tried with intent.”

“Robbie,”

“No,” Robbie shook his head. “Do your job. It’s a time of day where the children are going to be playing outside. They need to be kept away from here. If they show up, Glanni might lash out at them. He’s too far gone to realize who is foe or friend right now, especially since he so rarely has _friend_ on his side. Go protect the kids,” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sportacus’s cheek. “Go be a hero. If this gets out of hand, there needs to be someone who can keep them safe from the backlash. I’m not in control of my powers enough to do that and they don’t like me all that much anyway.”

“What are you going to do?” Sportacus looked at Glanni, wincing when his claws nearly took out one of Íþróttaálfurinn’s eyes. 

“I’m going to do the stupid, active, dumb and unreasonable thing of trying to be a hero of some kind and stop my cousin from going crazy,” Robbie tugged on Sportacus’s vest. “Trust me when I say _I don’t know what I’m doing_ ,” he emphasized the words, curling his fingers through the elf’s. “He doesn’t like elves very much right now, having two here might lead to him attacking both. You’ve never fought Glanni, you don’t know what it’s like and I don’t want him to kill you!”

The growing worry in Sportacus’s expression died a quick death, deflating like an old balloon. “Robbie,” he whispered the name and absently wished he knew his real one. “Be safe.”

“Do my best,” Robbie shrugged. “Not too used to the whole, ‘Hero’ thing.”

The ground rumbled, an earthquake created by the anger rolling off Glanni in waves. He was screaming now, furious words that he threw at Íþróttaálfurinn. Every word was spiteful, hateful, and powerful. One of them seemed to set off an explosion that made the elf throw himself sideways, rolling to a stop on his knees. He clutched at his side and Sportacus took it as a sign to go, a small kiss to Robbie’s hand his way of saying goodbye.

 

 _**“Glanni!**_ ” Robbie called over the wind. 

His cousin’s head whipped around, his hand twitching at his side. A lightning strike landed next to him, bright and intense and murderous, but the older fae didn’t even react to it. Not a good sign, Robbie thought as he took a step forward. _**“Glanni, please stop**_.”

 _**“You could have died, little cousin**_ ,” Glanni’s mouth twisted in a displeased frown, his voice sounding like more than one person speaking. _**“He ran me out of town and then kept me away. This is Our Territory and he took me from it and from You**_.”

Íþróttaálfurinn looked between the two of them, still grabbing at his side and breathing heavily. Whatever Glanni had done to him, it seemed to have toned down his athletics. Any other day, Robbie would have been glad for that. Two elves that bounced around and forgot how to walk like normal people did? He would have given almost anything to have them sit still for a moment or two. Right now, however, there was blood dripping from Íþróttaálfurinn’s mouth in slow, fat drops, and there were bruises forming from where Glanni’s hits had actually landed. _**“I know,**_ ” he tried to soothe Glanni. _**“I’m still alive.”**_

_**“You almost WEREN’T.”**_

_**“But I am,”**_ Robbie held out his hands. _**“Glanni, look at me. Do I look any worse for wear?”**_ he dropped the glamour he had on his wings, the purple shimmering as he tried to calm down his cousin. _**“Look at me,”**_ he repeated. _**“Sportacus helped me, got them out when they couldn’t push through on their own. He numbed my back, he made me comfortable when it happened. He helped me form my nest a little better.”**_

 _**“Your wards are elf-driven,”**_ Glanni was still snarling but at least he wasn’t moving any closer to Íþróttaálfurinn. His hands were still sparking but he wasn’t making any motions towards more violence. **_“What if he betrays you and destroys you through them?”_**

 _**“He won’t,”**_ Robbie shook his head.

_**“How do you know?”**_

_**“Because,”**_ Robbie stepped closer to his cousin. _**“Because I know him. He,”**_ he shot a glance at the elf on the ground, worrying at his bottom lip. **_“He loves me. And…And I’m almost certain that I love him.”_**

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. _**“I love him too.”**_

 _**“Love leads to misery, little cousin,”**_ Glanni sneered at Íþróttaálfurinn, his hands clenching into fists. _**“Don’t trust him so easily. You don’t truly know if he loves you, you only have his word and the word of elves isn’t trustworthy.”**_

“Glanni,” Íþróttaálfurinn gasped out his name, still trying to breathe through the pain. “Please…Talk to _me.”_

 _**“You lie, elf,”**_ Glanni took a step back when Íþróttaálfurinn tried to move towards him. _**“There are others and you only ever want to be away from me. I can only do what is in my nature,”**_ he tossed his head back, letting his eyes close. _**“You never wanted me.”**_

“…I have always wanted you,” Íþróttaálfurinn whispered. “You were _beautiful_ the first time I saw you. I knew you were wearing a glamour, even when I didn’t know what it was hiding. You,” he coughed, blood splattering the ground. He managed to get to his feet, even if he was shaking the entire time. “You were behaving in a way that terrified me, but you were beautiful. I knew,” he coughed again, wavering on his feet, “I knew I wanted to be near you, if I could, at every possible moment.”

Glanni tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at the elf. _**“Pretty words, elf.”**_

“Then tell me how I can show you intent,” Íþróttaálfurinn was almost begging, his eyes focused on Glanni’s face. “Because I have loved you for nearly thirty years now.”

Neither of them noticed Robbie backing away a short distance, a small smile on his face.

 **_“You-“_** Glanni’s eyes flickered, the grey returning through the pink and his expression softening. “…What?” his hands twitched at his sides, his throat clenching as he tried to swallow. His wings, a shade of shimmering raspberry pink now, were drooping into a softer position at his back. “You really… _What?”_

Íþróttaálfurinn forced himself forward, dropping to his knees in front of Glanni, looking up at him. He smiled, wiping away the blood around his mouth as covertly as possible. “I have loved you for so long,” he still had one hand pressed to his ribs, trying to cushion the damaged area. He put his other hand on the back of Glanni’s thigh, pulling him slightly closer and resting his head on the front of it. “And you have always been the one I wanted at my side.”

“…You need to sleep,” Glanni whispered, letting himself drop down next to Íþróttaálfurinn. One of his hands came up to the elf’s head, an aura of pink glowing around it. After a moment, Íþróttaálfurinn’s eyes closed and breathing seemed to come a little easier, the fae’s eyes studying his face. “When you wake up, we are going to have to talk about some things,” he pressed his lips to Íþróttaálfurinn’s forehead, holding himself there for a moment, his other hand moving to press against his ribs. Another pink aura formed around his hand and he sighed, moving to rest his lover’s head against his shoulder. “Robbie?”

“Hm?”

“Go find your elf,” Glanni wasn’t looking at him, was focused on the sleeping elf practically laying in his lap as he stroked golden hair. “He’s probably freaking out right now and you mentioned children. I was aware of that part, at least. You should go tell them all that everything is okay.”

“Glanni-“

 _“Go_ ,” Glanni urged him, still not looking up. “I have to fix him. When he wakes up, we’re going to have to talk, anyway, so you might as well just go find your elf, the one _you’re_ in love with, and tell him that the storm has passed.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Íþróttaálfurinn woke up, it was to hands gently combing through his hair, an anxious mutter of words falling through the air around him.

Glanni.

He shifted, moving to sit on his knees and meet the fae’s eyes with a nervous smile. “Glanni?” he fought against the urge to scoot backward, in case the man in front of him was going to attack him again. “Are you-“

“You could have said something earlier.”

Íþróttaálfurinn winced. “You didn’t- You seemed perfectly accepting of the Deal we had. Like you were okay with having nothing more than a warm body and a short time together,” he ran a hand back through his hair, huffing quietly, his eyebrows jumping upward when he realized that he wasn’t hurting anymore. “I didn’t want to ruin it if that was all I was going to have.”

“You could have _said something,_ ” Glanni covered his face with his hands, his knees curling into his chest. “I spent so _long_ thinking that I was just…”

“You are never ‘Just’ anything to me, Glanni,” Íþróttaálfurinn moved closer again, sitting so that his knees pressed against Glanni’s ankles. “You have never been, you never will be. We’ll fight and we’ll argue and you’ll pull some trick and then we’ll resolve the issue and we’ll go back to how we were and it’s…”

Glanni peered between his fingers. “It’s not _healthy,_ ” he hissed. “What we are is not healthy or good or anything worth having for a hero.”

“What we have is a dangerous, shadowed version of what I want,” Íþróttaálfurinn took the fae’s wrists in his hands, pulling them slowly away from his face. “I want you in my life, in my world, in my bed, in every aspect of my living. Without you, there is no point to me,” he curled those long fingers closed and pressed kisses to the knuckles. “A hero and a villain where the fighting stopped meaning anything to the hero a long time ago. It was twenty-five years ago when I realized I loved you,” he glanced at Glanni, watched the confusion in those gray eyes. “And you don’t…If you’re doing it right, you don’t make the one you love bleed.”

“Hm,” Glanni hunched in on himself, letting the elf keep his wrists in his hold. “I’ve hurt you plenty of times.”

“We’ve hurt each other too much,” Íþróttaálfurinn sighed, his mustache twitching. “And I- I can’t…” he stopped, choked on his words for a second, then sighed again and closed his eyes. After a moment, tensed and ready for attack, he opened them again. His hands slid up, fingers curling around Glanni’s, and golden sparks flew over them. “I grew up with the belief that, as one of the Numbered, I could never be satisfied with a mate. It would require me to be away from my settled city too long.”

“They told you a load of bullshit, everyone can have a mate-bond build between them. It just takes a lot of work,” Glanni avoided looking at him for a moment before he sighed and closed his own eyes. “And mine…I just thought you didn’t…Didn’t want me. Too good and too perfect and a _hero,_ ” he hissed the last word out.

Pink sparks joined the golden ones.

Íþróttaálfurinn’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide as he watched them dance around his fingers, where his skin had contact with Glanni. “You-“

“Me,” Glanni said miserably. 

Blinking a couple of times, Íþróttaálfurinn pulled back from him. Glanni let him go, his hands dropping limply to the ground. The sparks stayed with them, pink with Glanni and gold with Íþróttaálfurinn. “You may wish to unfold,” Íþróttaálfurinn’s voice was quiet. “I do not want to break your knees.”

“…What?” Glanni frowned, uncurling even as he was confused. “Why am I- Oof!”

Íþróttaálfurinn had pounced on him, splaying them across the ground, one of his hands cushioning the back of Glanni’s head from the impact. The elf had tucked his face into Glanni’s neck by the time the fae realized what was going on, the warmth of his body pouring into Glanni. “I have loved you for so long,” his voice was a murmur against the skin beneath his mouth, his mustache tickling gently. “And I never dreamed that you would want this,” he swallowed a sigh, pressed a kiss wherever he could. “Want _me._ ”

“Excuse you, that’s my line,” Glanni laughed, squirming away from the mustache and rolling his eyes. The sparks that still danced on their skin had settled with the opposite color now, small golden freckles on Glanni. The pink ones had gone straight into Íþróttaálfurinn’s eyes, flecks and shimmers when he finally looked up. 

The bond had settled and bloomed warmth into their chests after so long ignored.

Íþróttaálfurinn brushed a thumb over the line of Glanni’s new freckles, following the trail underneath his eye and across his nose to where it mirrored itself on the other side. “You look good in my color,” he laughed. “Don’t think I did not notice the stolen sweater.”

“Oh _darling_ , it’ll take a lot more to stop my thievery of clothing from you than me being angry and a faint protection spell on your balloon,” Glanni’s laugh was deep and throaty as he curled his knees up, his thighs clenched around Íþróttaálfurinn’s hips. “I was angry enough to try and kill you but there was still a bond trying to form between us. I was being logical enough about it to know I needed something of yours not to go insane.”

The only response from the elf was a small, extremely pleased noise.

 

Sportacus was standing on a wall, pausing from his movements back and forth as he watched the skyline in the direction he had come from.

The children were playing in front of him, distracted by the way he had urged them to stay close. Trixie, in particular, had demanded to know why he had left Robbie to deal with it, once he had told them that something was happening. “He isn’t good,” she’d said, her hands curled in the fabric of her shirt. “He’s rude and mean and old.”

“Is he any ruder than you?” Pixel had stuck his tongue out at her. “Sportacus says he’s helping, he’s helping!”

“Thank you, Pixel,” Sportacus had ushered them back towards the play structure, looking around nervously and seeing Stephanie looking at him. Once he’d had the rest of them corralled, he’d gone over to talk to her. “Stephanie?”

“This feels too much like…” she had swallowed nervously, her small hands wringing together. “I went to school, mom dropped me off, and then I took the bus home because they were both supposed to be busy that day. I got home and they weren’t there, but I wasn’t scared because they said they would be late. I made dinner, cleaned it up, went to bed…And they weren’t there the next morning,” she’d been breathing heavily through her nose, trying not to panic. “And n-now Robbie isn’t here and he’s off somewhere and taking care of something and I-“

She’d burst into tears.

Now she was sitting at the base of the wall, her knees curled to her chest as she balanced a sketchbook on them and drew something. Stephanie looked up as he flipped off the wall, tumbling across the grass and landing in a seated position in front of her, his legs crossed. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” she rubbed at one of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I drew all of us. And,” she hesitated for a moment. “Robbie, too.” Holding it out for him to take, Stephanie scrubbed both of her hands over her face. “’M sorry I cried,” she said quietly. 

“Sometimes we need to cry,” Sportacus smiled at her, studying the drawing. “Crying is healthy for us. This is very good, by the way. I like how you drew Pixel’s hair.”

“His hair is hard to draw sometimes,” she giggled. “I think I’m getting better at it.”

She took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, letting her legs flop down onto the grass. With a sigh, Stephanie began brushing bits of grass off of her tights. “…Is Robbie going to be okay? You seemed…Scared when you first got here. And Robbie is there alone.”

“I think he’ll be okay,” Sportacus assured her, ignoring the panic in his own chest. “My crystal would let me know if something was wrong!”

“But I’ve never seen it go off for him,” Stephanie countered. “How do you know it’ll tell you if he’s hurt or in danger? It always goes off for us, you’re always helping us and saving us, but I’ve _never_ seen it tell you if he was in any danger or not!”

Sportacus closed her sketchbook and set it gently on the ground, offering her a hug.

Stephanie launched herself into his arms, clutching at his shirt. “What if he gets hurt and you don’t know?”

“I know for a fact that it works for me,” came the deep drawl of Robbie’s voice. Both of them looked up to see him smirking, one eyebrow raised. Before he could say anything else, Stephanie had gotten up from where Sportacus held her and climbed over the wall. She curled her arms around him before he could protest, her hair sliding to cover her face. 

“You’re okay,” she whispered, voice sounding on the verge of tears again.

Robbie, arms held in the air, an expression of confusion on his face, blinked a couple of times before turning his head to look at Sportacus. “I…What?”

Shaking his head, Sportacus stood up. “We can tell you later if it is alright with Stephanie,” he glanced down at her, watched her nod, then nodded back. “There is a story to tell there. For now, we can just say she was worried about you. We-“ he paused, glanced over the fae’s shoulder, his eyes growing wide. “Um, Robbie?”

“What?”

Stephanie stepped back, wiping at her eyes again. “They’re so pretty!”

“… _What?_ ” Robbie glanced back, freezing in place before looking at Stephanie. “I-“

“When did you get wings?” she asked excitedly. “Are they really part of you? Is this a disguise again, are we going to play a game that involves wings?”

Sportacus pushed down the urge to laugh as he leaned over the wall and tapped her shoulder. “Stephanie?” he glanced at Robbie, who hesitated before nodding. “They are Robbie’s wings. They are how we know my crystal works to let me know if he is safe or not. It was going off for a month until I found Lazytown. When I got your letter, I was already in the area because I was looking for him.”

“That’s good!” Stephanie paused, then frowned. “Wait, why was it going off for him because of that?”

“Because growing wings hurts a little,” Robbie added to the story, kneeling down to be more on her level. “Do you think you can keep the others from charging at me when they see them? I may as well have them out if you know, as long as you’re okay with them.”

“They’re _beautiful,_ ” Stephanie said, her eyes wide and almost sparkling as she looked at them again. “And yeah, I can keep them from doing that! You don’t…Even Trixie admits you got nicer when we stopped being as loud. We just need to make it a good day for you, too, not just us. I can handle this!” she hopped up onto the wall before clambering down the other side and heading for her group of friends.

“There’s going to be news of this throughout the _entire town_ by _tonight,_ ” Robbie sighed, covering his face with both of his hands. “Because I forgot a _glamour._ ”

“If it makes you feel better,” Sportacus put himself up on the wall, leaning back on his hands. “I can show them my ears. Then you are not the only one showing the parts of yourself you’ve kept a secret. The children will accept us both, I know that, and their parents trust their judgment. It may also help that you have lived here for a long time,” he smiled at Robbie, the brightness of it going up a few watts when the fae sat on the wall as well.

Robbie stared at one of his hands for a moment, his cheeks faintly flushed. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Oh,” Sportacus felt his own cheeks burning, his smile turning shy. “I did.”

“Then I suppose I can keep you around,” Robbie’s hand moved closer to the elf’s, hesitant and nervous. When Sportacus shifted his weight and took it in his own, they both turned a shade of bright red. “Especially since you are nice to look at.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie trauma, mate-bond settling, Robbie and Sportacus being awkward dorks..I hope you liked this chapter!


	3. Carrying Your Heart Home

It was a week later when Glanni and Íþróttaálfurinn reappeared in Lazytown.

Glanni had the same golden-brown sweater on, his lanky form swallowed by the fabric, and Íþróttaálfurinn was wearing a band of pink ribbon around one wrist. “He knows I’m not going to change much,” Glanni said simply, a response to when Robbie’s eyebrows raised. “We’ve talked.”

“Alright, but did this talking include more than kissing and a bed?” Robbie rolled his eyes when Glanni snickered. “And did it discuss family politics?”

“Yes, and yes,” Glanni grinned at him. “What about you, cousin? Has your elf spoken with you, frankly and deeply? Or has it just been a week of gentle hand holding and small kisses?” he caught the glare Íþróttaálfurinn leveled at him. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course,” he leaned forward, lowering his voice until it was barely a whisper. “But seriously, get some elf dick when you can, they’re amazing in bed.”

“I-“ Robbie shoved Glanni away when Stephanie and Trixie came skipping over, arm in arm. “ _ **Not right now,**_ ” he hissed, Glanni’s smirk returning with the language switch. “Are you two alright?”

“Yeah,” Stephanie grinned at him, wide-eyed and happy. “You found my neighbor!”

“…What?”

“I used to live in Mayhem Town,” she explained slowly. “You found my neighbor. He lived in the same building as us. When I met you, you reminded me of him.”

Glanni perked up for a moment, studying Trixie’s face. “What’s your grandmother’s name?”

“Annabeth,” she stuck her tongue out at him, retracting it when Stephanie nudged her arm and sighed. “Why do you want to know?”

“…Mother’s name?”

Trixie rolled her eyes and sighed, looking as put upon as a ten-year-old could. “Beatrice.”

“Glanni,” Íþróttaálfurinn’s voice drifted over from where he was talking to Sportacus. “That is _exactly_ one of the things we talked about.”

“She’s a child living in familial territory,” Glanni shot back. “The rules are different for her.” He turned back to the girls. “Your name?”

“Beatrix,” she stuck her tongue out again, making a face like her own name had offended her. “I’m named after her but I _hate_ it. It works for her because she’s her, but it doesn’t work for me! I’m not…Old. Or fancy enough.”

“Beatrice and Beatrix,” Glanni rolled his eyes, humming quietly before he kneeled to be on her level. “Ask your mother about her slingshot, she used it to great effect in some cases. Got me a couple of times with it, part of how I got chased off in the first place. And,” he hesitated, looking around and leaning in conspiratorially, whispering like it was a secret. “I’m older than your mother.”

“…No, you’re not,” Trixie studied him for a moment. “You look the same age as her! Old and everything.”

Glanni held up a finger, grinning wickedly. “First lesson, little girl. Appearances are deceiving. Don’t always trust that someone you see is actually what they’re saying they are.”

He turned to Stephanie and studied her for a moment, then sighed. “I recognize you. You’re older now, and we’re in a different city, so it took a few minutes, but I remember you.” He leaned down and laughed. “How is it that you keep finding Glæpur’s and making your way into their lives? That’s twice now, little one, you seem to have a talent. Not many would be able to find a fae that easily.”

“Glæpur?” Stephanie’s nose wrinkled. “Whose name is that?”

“Mine,” Glanni stuck out a hand. “Glanni Glæpur. Robbie is my little cousin.” He circled her for a moment, an odd expression on his face. “And you keep finding our family and interacting with them. You-“ he stopped suddenly, rearing back slightly before a pleased smile curled across his lips and he patted her head. “I see. Well, you did your best to acclimate us to the world and drag us in. You’ve succeeded in some ways, so how about a reward?”

He snapped his fingers and a pink hat fell into his waiting hand. “This will always help you find your way home again,” his voice was gentler this time. “And you do seem to love pink in the same way I do.”

Stephanie’s eyes were wide, incredibly happy, and almost shining as she put her hands on the brim of the hat. “I love it!” she whispered, awe in her voice. “I love it so much! Than-“

“There’s another lesson for you,” Glanni said quickly. “And only because I am grateful for some things you have done. People like me do not need thanks. Never say please or thank you to us, you’ll end up in a dangerous situation you can’t always get away from. I’ve seen it happen before,” he turned to Trixie. “And you,” he snapped his fingers again. A slingshot appeared this time. When he handed it to her with a wink, she grinned back at him.

Íþróttaálfurinn sighed. “Glanni, what are you up to now?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Glanni turned so that the girls could see his fingers crossed behind his back. “Not a thing.”

Both of them giggled.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Íþróttaálfurinn raised an eyebrow as his mate came to stand next to him. 

“Because you know me too well,” Glanni scoffed. “I might have to fix that. Besides,” he lowered his voice, leaning against the elf’s shoulder. “You owe a fae a favor,” Glanni smirked. “You said _‘Please’_ ever so nicely.”

Íþróttaálfurinn muttered something that soundly, however vaguely, like a curse before he sighed. “You were angry, I was trying to get you to listen to me. It worked in the end, so I have no regrets about it.”

“…Damn it,” Glanni covered his face with his hands. “You cannot just let me be the one with the upper hand, can you? You always have to be charming and sweet and make me feel like you made the sun for me.” He leaned his chin on the top of Íþróttaálfurinn’s head. “You didn’t, by the way. I am certain you didn’t, even if it feels like you did.”

“I think I can live with that,” Íþróttaálfurinn turned, pressing a gentle kiss to Glanni’s neck before pulling away. “I have to go speak with my student for a few minutes. Do you think you can handle it?”

“I will be sitting in your lap before twenty minutes has passed,” Glanni rolled his eyes. “So you had better be prepared for it.”

Íþróttaálfurinn grinned. “I would swear you were a cat,” he chuckled.

Glanni stared him straight in the eyes and meowed quietly before he turned on a heel and walked towards where Robbie and Sportacus were standing. Grabbing his cousin’s hand, he pulled the younger fae away from his elf, soothing the startled noise with a gentle pap to his cheek. He gestured back at Íþróttaálfurinn, shooing Sportacus away.

“Does Glanni have wings too?” Stephanie asked Íþróttaálfurinn, her eyes still wide.

“Yes,” Íþróttaálfurinn nodded. “And he particularly likes showing them off. Not when it could be dangerous, of course, but when someone just wants to see them. He doesn’t like people touching them, but they are beautiful and he likes praise.”

“Okay!” Stephanie nodded, still holding onto the hat. She looked between the two elves, frowning for a moment before nodding like she had decided on something. “C’mon Trixie, let’s go play.”

Sportacus waited until they were out of hearing range before he approached his teacher. “I came looking for you,” he said quietly. “When all of this began, I was looking for you. I was in Mayhem, I did not know if you were alive or not.”

“I have heard,” Íþróttaálfurinn sighed. “Which brings us to a lesson of, ‘Glanni is territorial and has wards around what he considers his’. It is a very quick lesson compared to some I have had to teach you. Why did you end up in Mayhem?”

It wasn’t an accusation, which made Sportacus calm down a little. “I was looking for Robbie.”

“…Why?”

“Because my crystal picked up his pain from miles and miles away,” he said after a moment. “Because his wings were trying to push through his back with little success. Because he needed my help.”

“Because sometimes Fate guides you and there is nothing you can do but follow,” Íþróttaálfurinn smiled. “And in this, it seems that you have been guided. Your fae is nicer, as well, it seems. What is his name again?”

“Robbie,” Sportacus smiled at his mentor. “Not his true name, but the name you should use. And…Nicer is not _exactly_ how I would describe him, especially how he was when we met. He is sarcastic and easily annoyed and…Well…” his cheeks flushed. “I love him anyway. He cares for the children when he is not in pain and scared, his entire personality changed when I helped his wings get free. I think they had been hurting him for a long, long time.”

“You have done well,” Íþróttaálfurinn’s eyes crinkled at the edges with the strength of his smile. “I am glad to see you happy, and I am glad to see him happy as well. I hope that he may prove to be a friend to me as well, my student.”

Sportacus’s cheeks flushed even darker as he chuckled. “I am grateful you taught me how to pull wings,” he said after a moment of quiet. “That was how we met in the first place, how I got him to trust me.”

“Mentioning that I had trained you in that, as well as other necessary things?” Íþróttaálfurinn laughed as well. “I am glad for that, as well, then. The other heroes called me foolish for planning to teach my someday student how to retrieve wings on a fae, called them ungrateful and off-seeming. Selfish, was what Number Six said of them.” He glanced in the direction Robbie and Glanni had gone. “Glanni…I cannot always say the best of him, sometimes his redeeming qualities are few and far between, but your Robbie…He seems to have a good head on his shoulders.”

“Ah,” Sportacus glanced to the side, staring at a bush. “It seems our conversation is no longer private.”

“You were the ones talking about us,” Glanni’s voice poured out of the speaker hidden in the grass. The periscope peered out of the bush again, having already caught the younger elf’s eye. “I am going to take that as a compliment, Íþró. _Flatterer._ ”

Íþróttaálfurinn let out a deep laugh this time, hands over his stomach and his head thrown back. 

Sportacus walked to the periscope, waving at it somewhat awkwardly. “Can you let Robbie look through it?” he asked quietly, knowing his voice was loud enough to be heard by the system at his feet.

“Yes, yes, fine,” was followed by a clatter, possibly of the older fae being pushed aside. 

“Sportacus?”

With a glance back at his teacher, who obliging turned to look at the children playing in the park, Sportacus blew a kiss at the periscope, giggling a little nervously as he did. “You can come back up now,” he said. “Or I can come down to you. Or we can find someplace to go in between.”

“Airship,” came Robbie’s automatic response. “Glanni is driving me insane, I don’t care if it’s that high right now.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, go flirt with your own elf,” he hissed at his cousin. “I have places to be and plans with _mine._ ”

As he waved goodbye to his mentor, Sportacus hummed happily. The crystal on his chest let out a burst of warmth like it was just as happy as he was. This was his town, his home, and he had a mate and a family. Strange and a little uncertain but still a family. 

He was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright then!
> 
> End of the story!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> (Did you see the tiny hint of Fae!Stephanie? Changling!Stephanie is a headcanon I really like.)


End file.
